So at around lunchtime today, I was rather surprised to look out of the window and find we’d been visited by a friendly local:
I don’t even know how she got in past the fence, but she was happy enough to wander back out when I went and opened the gate for her. Not quite what I was expecting when I put some bread out for the birds yesterday, I must admit…
Just got a comment here from a reader who asked me about the small pinky-purple flowers visible behind the daffodil in my first photo. Thank you Dawn for giving me an excuse to post about these, because they’re a new favourite of mine: lungwort, a traditional English wildflower that’s made its way into garden cultivation. Lungwort has pretty, white-spotted leaves and clusters of flowers that, magically, are pink when they first open but then slowly fade through purple to blue over the duration of their life. Historically it was used as a medicinal herb for the treatment of coughs and chest conditions, but now it’s grown purely for the beauty of its flowers and leaves:
Close-up of a lungwort flower.
I admit that when I found these coming up in my garden earlier this spring, I didn’t know what they were either but I was charmed by them and knew I had to find out. Fortunately my mother, who is a keener gardener by far than I am, supplied the answer.
Aren’t they lovely?
It’s been quite a week here, weather-wise. Thunder yesterday, hail the day before that, and today it’s been rain and fog. But I still know it’s spring, because…
I have my first daffodil!
Since we moved into this house in December, the garden at the time was an unknown quantity. All I could see then were the dead stalks of last year’s growth and some old and rusting garden ornaments, so I had no idea what was going to come up this spring. A few weeks ago I went out and cleared all the junk and dead stems to make space for the new growth, and since then I’ve been enthralled watching everything slowly unfurl and identify itself.
But while daffodils were a predictable feature – there’s hardly a garden in England that doesn’t have a few somewhere, and there are scores of them up and down the village already – there’s a special joy to seeing your very own first one open. Snowdrops tell you spring is thinking about coming, but the daffodils are the gods’ own golden trumpets to tell you it’s arrived. Even if the weather seems to disagree, it’s spring, everyone. I have a daffodil. And better yet, I’ve got another dozen or so that are still to open:
Going to be lovely by this time next week, that is. Although I really hope the weather by then has brightened up again:
The view from my door this afternoon.
If it does, I’ll be going on some more adventures next week, so stay tuned!